


Prelude to The Passiac

by Penstakingly



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: 22nd Century, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dead Stop, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, Romulan War, Romulans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 03:36:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2052108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstakingly/pseuds/Penstakingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Archer had thought that he had destroyed the alien station that nearly had gotten away with abducting Travis Mayweather, but out of the ruins of its destruction, the station rebuilt itself. Now, five years later and near the edge of Romulan space, the crew of the warbird Tagor rediscovers the mysterious station.</p><p>Concurrent FanComic by the lovely SparrowTwo [<a href="http://sparrowdreams.tumblr.com/post/93684302916">link</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lady Luck and the Warbird Tagor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SparrowTwo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparrowTwo/gifts).



> A sequel to "Dead Stop" that sets up a role play thread I'm doing with SparrowTwo. I haven’t finished the Enterprise books, but I thought that since we don’t often get to see a Romulan side to the war, it might be a fun exercise to write one. And we never did get to see what happened to the space station. As I watched the later seasons of Enterprise, I kept hoping that they were going to do a sequel because of that teaser at the end.

  
`Captain’s Warlog 11874`

`It has been almost four days since our victory against enemy ships near the Gileus system. My chief engineer tells me the damage to our port nacelle is much more extensive than he had anticipated. Our drive coupling cannot get us safely past warp 1.8 and we cannot salvage anything to repair or replace it. Were he not otherwise an exceptionally gifted at his trade, I would have him demoted for such an oversight. _Four days_ later is unacceptable. There will be a suitable penalty exacted for the delay. For now, I have the repair teams working every available shift. Morale remains high but I am uncertain it will if we cannot find assistance soon.`

  
In the ready room of the Warbird  _Tagor_ _,_ Commander Mindar punctuated his file with an abrupt strike of the keypad and sat back in his chair allowing his gaze to settle on the picture he had by the side of his console of a tall woman in uniform standing to the left of him with a boy and girl in the fore. Mindar reached forward, the frame scraping the light blue-tinted glass of his desk lightly as he picked it up and handled it, drawing a finger down one side. The woman’s almost-smile stared back at him with two eyes hiding their playfulness beneath a veneer of calm collection in contrast to her husband’s stony composure. “Vessaria, you always had a smile for everything.” His smooth, deep voice noted with a tensing at the end. It was almost two months to the day since the ChR _Meikh_ had been ambushed by the Earth ship  _Challenger_ _._ A sharp dual tone cut through his thoughts, the rare smile disappearing from his lips at the alert for an incoming communication from the bridge.

“What is it?”

“Sir.” It was his tactical officer, T’Met. “Long range sensors are picking up an intermittent object on sensors.”

“Intermittent?”

“...You may wish to come see this for yourself sir.”

What in the name of _Vorta Vor_ could be going on now? “And  _why_ is it exactly that my tactical officer cannot offer for me a compendious synopsis? It’s what I  _promoted_ you to do.”

“Pardon the error, sir. Sensors confirm an unidentified object bearing one of our cloaking signatures.”

Mindar sat up straight in his seat, his voice gaining a tenuous edge. “You are certain it not Romulan?”

“Yes, captain.”

In the span of a few seconds, Mindar considered a bevy of questions, then sharply drew them to a close. “I will be on the bridge momentarily.” With the stab of the communications button, he launched himself out of his seat, tugging on the hem of his jacket.

.   .   .

As the _Tagor_ hurtled out of warp into a system two parsecs from the Romulan border, Commander Mindar stepped out of his office and onto the bridge, ignoring the routine shout of  _“Rekkhai!”_ from the senior-most Junior officer on deck and his first officer, Tal’Aura, immediately rising from the command chair in the center of the room on its raised dais to resume her usual post at the science station.

“What is the object’s bearing?”

“One-six-zero mark one-two mark five.” T’Met informed punctiliously.

“What.” Mindar swiveled and crossed over to the tactical station. His voice rose, clouding with anger. “In the middle of  _neutral_ space?” Stopping directly in front of the console, he placed a hand heavily on T’Met’s shoulder, signaling the officer to step aside. Mindar stared down at the figures on the screen, confirming for himself as T’Met had spoken, the latter straightened and standing by to resume his post at any moment. That  _was_ a Romulan cloaking signature, from the data on the charts, and a closer look afforded him an answer to the cause for the intermittent signal. The regulation of the projection field periodically entered phases where it extended only thinly around the periphery of the station to allow for a partial, faint detection from a distance. “Is it a Terran ship?” Stepping aside to let his tactical officer do his job, Commander Mindar paced impatiently while T’Met ran a full cross-reference.

T’Met reached over and keyed in a few commands. “Scanning… No, sir. It is much too big to be a ship of any known class. I believe it is a space station.” Brows across the bridge knitted after the fashion of the tactical officer’s, including the Commander’s.

_“Whose_ facility is it? Can you tell me that!” Mindar snapped as he re-entered T’Met’s personal space.

The officer gave a short shake of his head in the negative. “No, sir. Unknown construction.”

Mindar exhaled through his nose, regaining some placid severity. “Can you tell me anything else?”

“The outer hull is comprised of a dense isotope of neutronium. Internal systems are impervious to our scanners. This ‘station’ is four hundred eighty-three meters by two hundred fifty-nine meters by seventy-eight meters weighing in at six hundred seventy-two thousand metric tons.”

Commander Mindar raised his upswept eyebrows. _“Hra’vae…”_ However, it was not unheard of for a space station and the real question remained ingrained in Mindar's darkened brow: _'What is it doing in the middle of neutral space?'_ “Anything else.”

“Not from this distance, sir.”

“Mmm…” Their long range scanners were still experiencing a few technical glitches since the battle. “Set a course to intercept.” He suddenly barked, galvanising the helmsman into fluidly punching the coordinates  into the computer.

“Course laid in, sir.”

_“_ _We_ will not tolerate any unprecedented presence so close to our borders.” The  _gall_ , no less the stupidity, of whoever attempted to build a station so close to Romulan space thinking they could fool their sensors with their  _own_  technology! Mindar thought to himself. “I will be in my ready room. Summon Chief Vrell to the bridge.”

“Yes, sir.”

.   .   .

Arriving at the supposed space station, the eyes of the entire bridge were zoned in like hawks on the dual-node design. What looked like two cylindrical docking berths could easily fit two  _T’Liss_ -class warbirds, top and bottom, flanked either side of an otherwise uninterestingly-shaped oblate cylinder that comprised the station’s core.

A set of doors at the back of the bridge hissed open, revealing a commander in purposeful stride. “Report.”

“Sir,” the polished capital-born accent of his first officer answered fluidly. “We have hailed the alien station twice but with no response yet.”

“Armaments?”

“None, sir.”

“How interesting…” There came a soft audible intake of breath as he began next. “Can our scanners penetrate the hull?”

“No, sir.” T’Met answered. “But we are--”

“Captain!” A hint of decorum fell from First Officer Tal’Aura’s address as she exclaimed. “We are being scanned!” Before she was halfway done with that warning, the bridge was subjected to a flood of bright white light causing everyone to shut their eyes tightly and draw up their forearms for added protection. When the scan had passed, the room blinked a few times as their commander barked. “What was that!”

“A biomolecular probe.” Tal’Aura informed, her voice raising again in some surprised. “I can now scan inside the station. There are no life signs present. The interior is currently with little atmosphere and two hundred eighty-six degrees below freez-- I am now detecting it being filled…” She looked up and met his eyes. “With a warmer nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere.”

“Look!” T’Met interjected, his eyes fixed on the main viewer. Everyone glanced up and watched as one of the two docking bays began to retract. “It’s reconfiguring to fit our ship’s dimensions.” T’Met, although an experienced officer, could not keep a measure of awe out of his voice.

“There is still no response to our hails.” Communications officer Larek responded in a high tenor. “But it appears that an invitation has been extended.”

“Yes. _Appears._ _”_ Commander Mindar gave the young officer a sharp, cautionary glance, although the tone of his voice said it all. Friendly intentions had yet to be established and Mindar had half a mind to remain at this distance but reason dictated that was overcautious…  threat or not, Command and the Senate both would expect no less than a full investigation from the field. “We do not know who built this or what their intentions are. Nonetheless,” he addressed the entire bridge. “Our rendezvous for repairs will wait until we ascertain the nature of this facility. First Officer, prepare a level six boarding party.” She nodded and set about the task. “Helmsman, take us in.”  

.   .   .

`Captain’s Warlog, secondary supplement.`

`It is now five days out of the Gileus system. Myself, my First Officer, my Chief of Engineering, and a security team have boarded and secured what we have discovered to be a repair facility. Its origins are still undetermined at this hour, as are how it has obtained our cloaking technology and how it has entered the neutral zone undetected. What we have been able to determine is that it has minimal thruster capabilities and defenses and no heavy weaponry. Almost from the moment the docking clamps made contact, the station’s computer bypassed all of our access codes and has tapped into our main computer in an umbilical effect.`

`One thing we have learned to its disadvantage, however, is that the cloaking device had a faulty tetryon compositor. Without a properly functioning one, it cannot produce more than a partial cloak, especially for a station of its size. Logically, the AI has sought compensation to amend that. Meanwhile as repairs are rapidly underway, Vrell and his teams are currently on board the station studying what little of it is labeled as unrestricted while the rest of the crew has gone aboard intermittently for shore leave. I must admit the facility is far more remarkable than I previously thought. Even our own molecular synthesiers cannot replicate a dish as complex as Raeteg vineriine. But while my esteem grows so does my suspicion. `

  
“How are the repairs coming along?” Tal’Aura asked, increasing her stride to catch up to Vrell.

“You wouldn’t believe! I--” At the raise of Tal’Aura’s eyebrow, he lightly cleared his throat and toned his enthusiasm back down to an acceptable level. “I was in the station’s diagnostic room. All white, like the rest of this facility. Actually, I find the brightness very annoying, don’t you?”

_“Chief.”_

“Ah--right. All repairs will take only _twenty-six point two_  hours.” her eyebrows did indeed raise at that, even if it was a wan measure.

“What is the requisite compensation?”

“If you didn’t believe the figure I just gave you, you won’t believe this.”

“Try me.” She replied dryly.

“Our choice of One projection matrix, One tetryon compositor, Four warp coils, Three triphasic emitters,  or One hundred liters of biomimetic gel.”

“Biomimetic gel?”

Vrell gave a light shrug of his shoulders. “If I had to guess, it’s used to mimic organisms at the cellular level.”

Tal’Aura fixed him a half-lidded  _‘I gathered’_ stare, then she was silent for a moment. “If this is another attempt to humour me…”

He gave a small side-ways gesture with his hands. “It’s not.”

Vrell had known Tal’Aura rarely to allow her concern to show, even in her eyes as it did now. “Has the Commander begun to seriously consider allowing this alien station to repair our ship?” She asked quietly. Such an open question bordering on defiance as well. Vrell stared in surprise.

“He... already made the decision.”

An intake of breath hitched audibly as the first officer opened her mouth to say something, then paused briefly before deciding on something else. “I assume he has already chosen a method of compensation, then.” Vrell nodded. “What was it?”

“Our compositor.”

“Our--!” Tal’Aura’s gaze flickered. “Excuse me.” She brushed past a very confused Vrell, who stared after her hastily retreating form until he shrugged. He had a full schedule of repair inspections ahead of him rapidly piling on top of each other even as the two had spoken.

.   .   .

Later that evening, the doors to the Commander’s ready room swept aside at the presence of the first officer. “We are badly in need of repairs and accepting the automated invitation to repair this vessel will afford us an opportunity to observe the station at its work.” Her superior called out from behind his desk. His chair swiveled to reveal himself holding a crystal decanter containing a light azure liquid.

“I understand that, sir.”

_“Do_ you?” Mindar smirked as he tipped the contents into a clear, crystal glass.

“Yes. I’m just not sure why the emitters. We will need them to be back on our way and rejoin the fight. Once they read our report, Command will not be very--”

“I know very well what Command would say, but we are not giving them a report.”

In rare form, Mindar saw his long-time friend gape. “...Sir!”

“Calm down, Aura, and close your mouth. You look like an Apnex sea bass.”

Her frown thinned below pale blue eyes shining like the glint of ice. “What are you proposing, Gell?”

“I have already proposed it.” Tal’Aura visibly relaxed, reclining demurely in her seat as she gave him her full, undivided attention. “We are to oversee the transport of the station to the Lagrange point of the closest gas giant’s fourth moon.” He showed her on a holographic display. “As you can see, this is a binary system with a main-sequence star and a pulsar orbiting each other.” He then gestured to the rest of the planets laid out in colour code as far out as a seventh orbit, pointing to a few then finally focusing on the last. “Actually, this one isn’t a planet at all. It’s a _planetoid_ soon to be ejected from the system entirely in approximately six point eight decades.”

Tal’Aura’s eyelids dipped as she let out a sigh. “Need I remind you, Gell, that  _I_ am the science officer?”

Gell Mindar smiled wryly at her, and gestured to the third planet, a light teal ball waltzing around the two gravity wells. “There we will begin to study in constructing whole shipyards like this station.”

“We...?”

“No, not  _we,_ of course. _Romulus._ We are only going to conduct preliminary research and send our findings to command. That is all for now.”

“How certain are we that the Senate will approve? Senator Vrax is not like to support another failed scientific venture.”

“Tal’Aura.” His pitch signalled an instructive manner. “This an opportunity that has the potential to significantly increase the rate of repairs. Command will send a team to investigate one way or another at this point. Shall it be us or shall we be relegated to patrolling the home system?”

When put that way, Tal’Aura’s glance briefly dipped to the floor. “No, sir.”

“And that is if we’re lucky enough half of Command shows up drunk to their offices tomorrow. It is a risk any officer has sworn an oath to take. And even Senators, like Vrax, when they casually care to remember such things. What is it?” He indicated with a nod of his head to her steepled fingers tapping against one another.

“It’s just that this station has tightly kept secrets.”

“Mmm. The computer core.”

“Yes. The dampening field still remains intact.”

“What could they be hiding, one wonders, hmm? It may take time. I have faith in Vrell. But if he cannot find a way to bypass it, then that is all we can do. The next team can do the rest.”

“Yes, sir. I was wondering if--”

She was cut off by the sound of an incoming communication and the contralto voice of his Chief Medical Officer was heard over the comm. “Doctor tr’Hheinia to Commander Mindar.”

Mindar punched the requisite button and responded with a terse, “Yes!”

“You’re needed in Sickbay immediately.”

The shadows cast by Mindar’s cranial ridge deepened. “What has happened?”

“Chief Vrell has been hit by an isolytic shock.”

“How bad are the injuries?”

There was a pause on the other end that Mindar swore lasted five seconds instead of just the one.

“Sir… he’s dead.”

.   .   .

“How.” Mindar and Tal’Aura looked down at the supine body of their Chief Engineer. The latter had not spoken a word since they had arrived and had yet to look up from Vrell’s face.

“Sir.” A young man’s voice piped up.

Mindar pushed aside the observation. “Uhlan Ba’el, speak.”

“I was with the Chief when he was working on a panel outside of junction six on the second deck. He asked me for an optronic caliper when I turned away for a moment, walked down the short hall and as soon as I turned the corner, it happened.”

“Can you tell me anything else? Was it only the two of you in that section?”

“Yes sir, it was just us… but just before it happened I… heard something strange.”

Mindar’s eyelids lowered fractionally in exasperation. “Like what? Have it out!” To his credit, Mindar thought, the uhlan had not flinched but Mindar had not meant to become that snappish with him either. The commander relaxed the ire in his gaze faintly.

“I have trouble describing it. But I think it sounded like a soft, high-pitched whine before I heard the Chief yell.”

Mindar blinked, silent for a moment, then turned to Tal’Aura. “Our sensors have been on constant sweep, yes?”

She picked her gaze up slowly. “Yes,” she replied as she met his eyes. He noted a retreating distance in them.

“Isolate the time sequence. Run a diagnostic of all energy bands just to be sure.” Tal’Aura nodded silently and turned to leave.

“Be sure? Sir, he’s--” Doctor tr’Hheinia began to say.

“Excuse me, doctor.” Mindar cut in, moving further away from the doors and spoke in a lowered tone. “I can see that Vrell is dead, yes. That is not what I was referring to. Just be entirely certain that you run a thorough autopsy.”

“Yes, sir.” She acquiesced simply.

“Ba’el, you’re with me.” With a nod to the uhlan, Mindar turned and they exited the Sickbay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rihannsu:
> 
> “Rekkhai!” = Sir!  
> “Hra’vae...” = “Oh really...?” Not sarcastically, but in awe
> 
> Assume that everything spoken is all in Romulan anyway. Even the metric units, it should be understood, would be spoken in their Romulan equivalent.
> 
> I inferred from the transcript that the station's computer core housed a very sophisticated VI, and I'm going to be developing this idea a little more in future installments. To that end, for the purpose of this story, the reader can also assume that the voice of the computer core is still Roxann Dawson's.


	2. Tal'Aura and the Computer Core

The chronometer on the wall above her headboard read 03:56 in Ki Baratan standard time, but Tal’Aura lay awake on the red sheets of her bed, body half-turned on its side. The cool silk of her nightclothes slid across her skin as her legs moved. Feet padded softly on the floor carrying her over to her work station to check on the progress of the diagnostic. Forty-five more minutes she read off of the time index and exhaled softly. But as her gaze trailed up from the monitor, it hardened.

.   .   .

White doors slid shut behind the slight form of Tal’Aura, a critical eye roving over the walls of the room as she made her way to the center pillar which contained a holographic display of the  _Tagor_ and --formerly-- every single point of damage from missing bulkheads to the scratch of paint from the one time in dry dock that Vrell had nicked the launch bay doors with the new robotic service arm that he was testing out. Tal’Aura’s gaze was drawn to the aft quarter to inspect the doors, but the highlighted marker was now gone.

“A member of our crew is dead.” She spoke quietly with a burgeoning severity as she continued to watch her surroundings. “Can you tell us what happened?”

A cool feminine mezzo-soprano answered clearly. “Your inquiry was not recognised.”

Eyelids dipped at the response and Tal’Aura raised her voice. “Our Chief Engineer was killed while inspecting the primary power relays at junction six level two. We suspect it was due to an automated self defense mechanism.”

“All personnel are required to adhere to station regulations. Unauthorised access to any station functions is strictly prohibited.”

“We were aware of that.” Vrell had been. What he had been doing there without notifying the commander or herself as well as dragging Uhlan Ba’el into it unsettled her beneath a veneer of placid features. “You must have some kind of record of what happened.”

“All personnel are required to adhere to station regulations. Unauthorised access to any station functions is strictly prohibited.”

“That does not answer my inquiry. I need to talk to a sentient biological life form. Someone who is permitted to access your database and tell me what happened.”

“Your inquiry was not recognised.”

“Which species built this station?” She addressed the computer with a rapidly rising impatience. “Who do you belong to?”

“Your inquiry was not recognised.”

Tal’Aura’s lips twisted as she slapped the flat of her palm against the screen. _“_ _What species!”_

“Any damage to these facilities will be charged to your vessel.”

Alone in the room, she allowed herself to hang her head. Moments passed, she knew not how long, until reminding herself she had the results of a diagnostic to check on, Tal’Aura led her hand slide from the monitor as she turned away from it. Setting her jaw, the first officer launched herself into a brisk stride out of the alien station’s diagnostics room.

.   .   .

`Captain’s Warlog, tertiary supplement`

`My Chief Engineer was killed while opening a panel to look at the main power distribution node a few meters away from the computer core. There is no excuse for negligence on his part; our entire crew was briefed on which sections of the station required what kind of access authorisation and at what times certain sections would be no longer available to us. Most of these, when our ship was to depart anyway. So far, there have been no other reports of injuries or fatalities and no unannounced changes to restrictions. I can only assume my Chief Engineer had a reason of utmost importance to defy regulations. It is possible that he did not think the punishment of his actions would merit his death and I know what he has done would warrant his immediate demotion, yet I must believe he would not have disobeyed the instructions so carelessly. As soon as my first officer is done analysing the diagnostic, we will board the station and carry out our own investigation as far as can be permitted.`  
  


He hated writing those last words. He hated writing all of it, but  _especially_ those last words.  _As far as can be permitted._ They were all at the mercy of this alien space station who had given them absolutely no warning that this would happen. As a soldier of the Empire, on the one hand Mindar could not brook fault with the station. It was a VI simply following a set of subroutines laid out by its creator and that creator may have had good reason for such extreme measures but to not warn species of the consequences of their actions so as to prevent… he could not finish that thought without still understanding why they were in place. But  _damned_ if it was not fair! Vrell was a good man and excellent engineer with a wife and three children at home and his sister…

Thoughts of how Tal’Aura must be faring flooded his mind. The look on her face as she gazed down at Vrell’s motionless body. The stillness about her as she left the room that exuded anything  _but_ stillness in him. He had borne inside the face of a very perturbed man for a long as he was able to although it was only a brief moment before other duties cut in. At least the doctor had affirmed that he had died too quickly to register much pain… hopefully, Mindar thought, that was some small comfort, at the least. Still, it was his fault. Mindar exhaled audibly. He was the one who ordered the ship to dock with the station. He had been correct to pursue this course on a professional level but at the same time so very wrong on a personal. It was not the first time that had happened, and it would not be the last. Such was the experience of command. He understood that Tal’Aura did not blame him, but he still, even perhaps foolishly so he thought, blamed himself for the both of them.

.   .   .

“Sub-commander.” Doctor tr’Hheinia’s black bob swished as her head jutted up from the microscope next to the drawn curtain.

“I would like to see Chief Vrell.”

tr’Hheinia blinked slowly as she straightened. To some, it may have looked as if she was about to refuse, but instead she lifted an arm and pulled the curtain back.

“Have you found anything unusual in the autopsy?” Tal’Aura asked from beyond the partial opening. tr’Hheinia had moved so that her superior was out of line of sight.

“No, ma’am. Not yet.” Came the doctor’s disembodied reply.

Her brother’s hair was soft and cool, sliding between her fingertips with ease. It was hard to imagine that its lustre… tears welled up in Tal’Aura’s eyes and she took a step back from the corpse. It was a corpse, now. It was already rotting. She was touching rotting hair. It was not thought with revulsion, but with the hammerfall of a finality of reason: he  was  dead. He was truly dead, irrevocably dead.

“This is odd.” The doctor's murmur cut shook Tal'Aura. Throat tight with the fresh spring of unshed tears, she cleared it quickly before speaking nevertheless knowing that the doctor could still hear both it and the rawness tingeing her voice. “What is odd?” Tal'Aura asked.

“His immunoglobulin--his antibodies. They are supposed to be configured for the modified Levodian flu that Vrell had to spend twenty-six hours in isolation to be rid of it. Take a look at them.”

“Doctor. I am not an immunologist.”

“Well I’ll explain it to you, then. This Y-shape you see is the binding site for a--”

“Doctor.” The pitch of Tal’Aura’s interjection rose quickly, but gently.

“Yes, you are right. The point is… I am unsure at the moment what this means. I’m going to have to refer back to the log entry… wait… I’m fairly certain had forgotten to mention it in my log that day. That was the day I was inundated with treating cases for that nasty Denobulan head cold that swept through the ship from our prisoner. You remember--” As tr’Hheinia had continued to muttered on, Tal’Aura’s head had suddenly picked up.

She stopped the doctor’s monologue. “What?”

tr’Hheinia gave her superior a brief quizzical look over the ocular lenses. “I said I had forgotten to mention it in my log that day. Why?”

Over half of the doctor’s repetition, Vrell’s voice came back to her. _If I had to guess, it’s used to mimic organisms at the cellular level._ Tal’Aura straightened. “It may not be a coincidence.”

“What may not?”

“Continue with your work, doctor. I have something I wish to confirm before I give you an answer.”

“Al…right…”

.   .   .

Once again, Tal’Aura found herself alone in the alien station’s grimacingly bright diagnostics room. Her eyes were still blinking, adjusting from the dimmer lighting of the bridge and the science station console she had been staring at for the past half hour.

“Do you have an inquiry, sub-commander?”

The sudden question caused Tal’Aura to frown. The last two times she had been inside the room, the computer needed a prompting, not the other way around. “Yes I would like to ask what method of compensation has been selected?”

“Commander Mindar has authorised a compensation of one tetryon compositor.”

“Computer… if I may call you that, it’s my understanding that a tetryon compositor is a multispectral emitter used as a camouflage system.”

“That is incorrect. You are describing the primary function of a holographic emitter.” The virtual intelligence replied in a perfectly even monotone even to Tal’Aura’s Romulan ears. “The function of a tetryon compositor is to arrange and regulate the flow of tetryon particles.”

“Oh! I see. And you plan to use this compositor to, say, simulate a Romulan ship while attacking any United Earth vessels that might approach or a Tellarite vessel to attack Andorians?”

“That is incorrect. Your are describing the primary function of a triphasic emitter. This facility has the requisite number of emitters to extend the range of the cloaking barrier to compensate for our larger size in comparison to a  _T’Liss-_ class warbird.”

“How did you obtain the emitters and the cloaking device itself?”

“Your inquiry was not recognised.”

Of  _course_ _._ Tal’Aura continued to pace. “I was also curious about your dermal regeneration used on Uhlan tr’Rhea’s contusion. Could you please describe the adaptation process?”

“Alien dermal physique is scanned, processed and sent to the direct particle beam emitter whose matrix is then realigned before it begins repair of the damaged biomatter.”

“One final question. What is the genetic coding for Levodian influenza’s antigenic drift?”

“There is no data available.”

_‘Gotcha you sonfabitch’_ was quite obviously not what the Sub-commander thought as she smiled and thanked the computer, but the Rihan sentiment bore a strong resemblance to the human phrase.

.   .   .

“Sir, I think we may need to broach the possibility with Sub--” tr’Hheinia’s concerned voice rose to a greeting as the subject of their discussion strode unannounced through Sickbay doors. “Sub-commander!”

Tal’Aura’s gaze flickered between the two co-conspirators with a sense of foreboding at whatever they were speaking of, but it could wait. Upon her return to the ship, Tal’Aura had made no detour on her route to Sickbay. She was certain her news was about to trump any other concern at any rate.

Mindar continued in tr’Hheinia’s stead. “The Doctor informs me that she is still having a hard time coming up with a viable explanation for the loss of the antibodies.”

“I have an answer for that.” Tal’Aura said, simultaneously placing her feet shoulder-width apart.

“Oh?”

“When I first interpreted the data from our diagnostics, I came up with nothing conclusive. There was a large distortion on our high energy gamma band but it could have been signal interference from the pulsar or any number of causes. Suffice it to say I had begun to rule these out. However, when the doctor informed me of the antibodies, she said that she also had  _forgotten_  to enter that information in her log that day due to the high volume of patients.” From out of the corner of her eyes, Tal'Aura did not miss the bare hint of disappointment in the doctor's glance toward her when she mentioned the professional oversight.

“Ah yes. That damnable head cold.” Mindar replied wryly, but suddenly rounded on his CMO. “You  _forgot?”_

tr’Hhenia hung her head just enough to show the appropriate deference but keep her pride intact. “It was only one time, sir. I’m sure of it.”

“Let it be the  _last.”_

“Yes, sir.” She replied, her toned softened.

Although it had been an oversight normally a hindrance to ship efficiency, Tal’Aura felt she ought to spare at least a brief apologetic look for tr’Hheinia’s trouble before she dropped the matter entirely and continued. “It’s fortunate that she had or I may not have figured out that Vrell has somehow been replicated and switched out for this.” She opened one of the storage units and pressed the button which protracted the slab of a lifeless corpse matching Vrell’s exact definitions.

Mindar gave a heavy sigh, but asked the question he know she wanted to hear anyway. “How?”

“I went over to the station’s diagnostics room and asked the VI a series of false questions about our cloaking and telepresence technology--”

The doctor and commander both gave a start. “ _Sub-commander._ ” Mindar warned with visible signs of his blood pressure rising.

“--which it  _rectified_ _,”_  Tal'Aura continued as she watched the both of them relent, the one more quickly than the other. “The VI knows every bit of information in our ships logs since it has interfaced with them. Then I asked it to describe the genetic coding of the antigenic drift--” she fought a smirk as Mindar's eyes glazed over “--of Levodian influenza, but it could not give me the information.”

“But it could be lying.” He immediately cautioned.

"If I may, I agree with the commander." tr'Hheinia interjected, glancing between the two of them. "There  _is_  the question of where and  _how_  the station obtained our cloaking technology. It probably interfaced with another one of our ships and accessed information about telepresence technology as well."

_One can only_  wonder _what happened to that ship._  Mindar groused, having heard no chatter about a space station like this or a missing ship recently in this sector. But he kept it to himself. Although the other probably thought, had thought, or would think of it at some point, he also knew that as a commander, giving a voice to such thoughts drove them home a little harder.

“That is an excellent point, Doctor. However, I did not end my research there. In fact, I walked into that room already quite positive of what ended up being confirmed. Vrell was subjected to a molecular decompilation process. That is what the interference pattern suggests after I parsed out the VI’s scrambling code.”

“A transportation device? Like the one the humans use?" tr'Hheinia asked, both shocked and grave, as the commander appeared to be thinking something over in his head. Although propaganda would have the troops believe they outgunned, outmanned, and outsmarted the humans, their scientists and engineers had still not mastered transporter technology yet on their own, which that prompted the question in the trio’s minds: ‘What if this station was being outfitted and used by the humans?’ The voice almost  _sounded_  human... Mindar had thought when he first boarded. But then, all computer voices sounded a little foreign possibly a psychological effect of listening to a disembodied voice.

Tal'Aura nodded to the doctor. "I cannot determine if it  _is_  human origin or if another species has developed transporter technology, but I have not yet seen any other evidence that would support this being a human-constructed facility.  _However,_  that does not rule out the possibility that the humans have not had  _contact_  with this station just as we have."

"Are you familiar enough with transporter theory to be certain that this is what happened to Vrell?” Mindar’s voice held that edge to it that Tal’Aura had come to know about him speaking as one already accepting her at her word but loathe to face facts due to certain rather difficult calls he would now have to make.

"Enough, sir. And Uhlan Ba'el's testimony to hearing a high-pitched drone would support that claim as well." She did not blame the commander for being loathe to bring his chief of security into this and make it a ship-wide alert, but the indomitable look on her face began to convince him otherwise.

His nostrils sucked in a short breath of air as he straightened. “Both of you continue to make the investigation your top priority until ordered otherwise.”

"Yes, sir." Both women answered in unison.  Giving a curt nod, Mindar then wheeled about and marched out of the Sickbay.


	3. The Art of Diplomacy and The Tech War

  
“Mindar to T’Met. Status of the team.”

“We are in place at the access panel on level three section seven.”

“Proceed and begin count on my mark when ready.” As he uttered the words, Commander Mindar’s mind drifted back in time to the tactical meeting held two hours earlier in the conference room.  
  


_T’Met, Tal’Aura, and his Security Officer Sovek stood around a three-dimensional holographic projection of a layout of the station, deck by deck and section by section. Its frame was translucent, with a light orange border defining the limits of the outer hull. The docking berths and ninety percent of the station’s interior was detailed out in blueprint form before their eyes. Only the main core was a solid, opaque red in the center, beyond which their scanners had not been able to penetrate._

_“Tal’Aura, how are the scanning modifications faring?” He had asked._

_“Ours are flatly no match, sir. I have tried every frequency and every advanced algorithm.” She had a feeling it could still come in handy, but how, she did not yet know. Weaknesses could be found and exploited; it was just a matter of knowing which ones and how to work them in concert with one another._

_“What if you tried rotating frequencies?” T’Met asked, lightly lilting in curiosity._

_Tal’Aura nodded. “I had thought of that. Our processing speed is simply outmatched. If we were to try it, we would need to tie up the core’s processing power, but I do not know at this time if that is a viable goal.”_

_Mindar nodded to her. “Look into it again if the opportunity arises. For now, we’re all in agreement that Vrell cannot be anywhere on this station but the core, in any case.” Mindar pronounced gravely as his gaze locked with the impenetrable surfaces of the red sections deep inside the middle of the station. Then he turned to his Chief of Security, sparing a glance as well to his tactical officer. “Sub-commander Sovek, what have you and T’Met analysed?”_

_“I believe we have found a viable path into the core.”_

_Upswept eyebrows raised. “You ‘believe’?”_

_“Sir, without a way to know the details of this station’s internal security system, it is the best analysis I c--”_

_Mindar nodded impatiently, cutting Sovek off with a curt “Proceed.”_

_“This ventilation shaft, here.” A long index finger pointed to an access panel in a corridor three sections over from the diagnostic room on the second level. Behind the panel ran a straight and narrow shaft radially outward from the major red sector toward the station’s outer hull. “There is no way to tell what kind of security countermeasures may be in place inside of this conduit, however, and there are segments where ventilation grills will need to be removed, which I would think would trigger an internal alarm.”_

_“If I were the station, I would have pressure sensors wired into those grills.” Mindar pointed out, lending a shilling to specifics._

_Lowering his hand, Sovek smiled. “That is something I should not have trouble with.” Raising his finger again, the specially trained cryptologist and Tal’Shiar liaison continued. “A team of myself and T’Met will enter the shaft. Once we cross into the cordoned zone here,” his finger moved to the red barrier. “I will require us to maintain absolute communications silence. Eight of my team will be placed along each segment to send visual cues back through the shaft to alert you when we are ready to detonate the micro-explosives.”_

_Mindar barked a dry laugh. “Well, then. You two have fun on your scout trip.”_

_The two officers had very different reactions to that statement. Sovek merely blinked, feeling more than capable of putting up with whatever brand whimsical nonsense the commander threw at them. On the other hand, it appeared that, for a moment, T’Met stiffened. He said nothing; however, Mindar, having espied the look, fought the urge to sigh._ Come, now. _“You will begin the count on my mark when ready.” He nodded to Sovek._

_His orders were met with a pair of nods and a congruous, “Sir.”_  
  


There was just one other thing niggling at the back of his mind as he waited for T’Met and Sovek to assume their final positions within ‘the red zone’, as he decided to term the primary data core.  
  


_A pair of slate grey automatic doors slid shut behind the retreating backs of Sovek and T’Met, but Tal’Aura remained, still standing and unmoving across the table from him, the bridge of her nose a centimeter below the base of her cranial ridge down to her waist overlayed in semi-transparent orange and gridwork of a lighter shade. Having a feeling about what she was going to ask, a muscle in his jaw began to twitch in impatience. It came with decades of knowing her that without even looking up, he could tell she was angry with him. The way she wore him down by staring at him waiting to speak, the tranquil hauteur in her voice, belying a staggering depth of worry and loss that he knew she must be concealing, during the latter half of this meeting when he had continued to marginalise her contribution to the meeting more and more by focusing on T’Met and Sovek’s plan, and other subtle cues from her starch posture all portended the disapproval she was about to levy at him. He did not have the right to be angry with her, but Mindar maintained that being the senior officer he still was afforded the authority to express his frustration at his pleasure._

_“Speak.” The bark tore with it any immunity he had much less a gaping hole in the reigning silence._

_“You did not open consideration as to_ why _Vrell was taken.”_

 _Slowly, Mindar lifted his gaze from his apparent perusal of the ventilation shaft. In truth, he had stopped looking at it and started staring past it a good few minutes ago. Doubtless, she could tell, he figured --she was a scientist; she just had to look at the way his pupils had dilated. From where she stood, Tal’Aura saw a man who was in the prime of his life just as she was, but his face still looked some forty years younger than hers. Immediately, she recalled that first year of command eleven years ago on board the ChR_ Eisn. _It had been a challenging one for him, in part because he looked much younger than any one of his senior staff. She remembered a small amount of envy at this, as well, oh how could she forget? He never let her once he had gotten wind of it. Small she maintained; he did not. It was not something he ever tired of prodding her recollection with. No one else would have dared but for the loyalty she had felt from years of acquaintance and an admiration which had blossomed into a newfound respect since he had grown into military leadership._

 _Mindar, in turn, gazed back at Tal’Aura for a moment before speaking. He had known her since they had gone to the Imperial War College together. They had been allotted the same first posting together aboard the ChR_ Romii. _There had even been a time when he thought perhaps he would court her before he had met a young and gifted astrophysicist. Their families had socialised in the same circles, but never before had there been such a strengthening of ties between the two Houses. The elders would say it had been about time, coming about from years of mutual gains in the political atmosphere over the past seven decades. Of course, the progeny thought. Oh, of course. Their friendship had been the modern catalyst, and he had known her brother, Vrell, her only sibling, for almost as long as he had known her._

_“We do not have the time to speculate.” He replied, without breaking his eye contact for a moment._

_“Why not even a few minutes?”_

_“You_ know _why!” He thundered. Tal’Aura blinked, but otherwise remained straight and still, a quality about her which Mindar had always secretly admired. Always too easy to crack, he joked that was partly why he never bothered considering a career with the Tal’Shiar. Okhala in the veins, he had never quite mastered the art of a cool façade to the same degree. “You know it is because we don’t have any real confirmation that the body is not Vrell’s. Assuming that this computer can replicate biomatter down to its cellular proteins, tr’Hheinia has not yet found viable evidence of forgery outside of a nonexistent Y-shaped… …” He waved his hand._

_“Antigen.” Tal’Aura supplied patiently._

_“Yes, antigen. I could be risking several members, possibly even the entire ship, for what? For one possibly dead man.” Coming around to her side of the table, Mindar did not stop until he leaned just within her personal space. “Don’t make this personal, Aura.” He spoke with a low undercurrent of a warning growl. “Until you sit in that command seat and know what it means to have the lives of your crew in your hands.”_

_“I am fully capable of understanding that responsibility.”_

_Mindar breathed out. “Aeirelh ihirlarr’khinu’le aethl kaeyrhevha u’temfirhaivha. But nowadays so are hull breaches.”_

_Tal’Aura, he was relieved, did not say anything. He was, in his own way, apologising deeply for losing Vrell under his command. She instead simply replied, “I only bring it up because, dead or alive, it may present other options for consideration.”_

_“I recognise that, but we have run out of time. We have less than one hour before we must depart or our ‘vessel will be impounded’. Keeping that in mind, I can’t wait any longer to mount a rescue mission without jeopardising the entire crew.”_

_“And rescuing Vrell isn’t doing that?”_

_Mindar painted her with a cipherous look. “Why do you think Vrell may have been taken?” He asked instead of answering her question._

_“With his body replicated in order to fool us into thinking that he died… the type of value worth the risk and resources would, by our standards, indicate perhaps labour or… harvesting.”_

_“Harvesting? His organs?”_

_“Possibly for biomedical research. It is a rather small area, again by our standards, to house a computer core and science labs, but who knows what goes on inside the restricted zone.” She said with a flick of her eyes to the mysterious cylindrical shape in the middle of what her mind began to view as not unlike a hive. “Possibly another kind.”_

_Mindar, forgetting that he was still leaning over the table, lifted off from the palms of his hands and through his fingertips. “Such as?” He inquired, straightening his spine as he folded his hands in front of his body._

_“Biocomputation.”_  
  


Organic circuitry, biocomputers, the link between artificial and biological intelligence… it was all Ancient Rihannsu to Gell Mindar. He was versed in a little of basic computational theory, enough to know that if the station’s computer core had taken Vrell and harvested his brain to increase its data storage and processing power, that  would  explain the extraordinarily short repair schedule. What would have taken six weeks for the teams at Remus shipyards to complete repairs to the  Tagor only had taken a fraction longer than a Romulan day for this alien station.

“Sir,” Larek’s voice paused Mindar’s train of thought when he pronounced. _“_ _Viahra.”_

The commander gave a slow nod. His index finger hooked around his chin, balanced by placing the pad of his thumb at the soft spot posterior to the bone as he continued his line of thought. And then there was the whole concept of ‘our standards’.  _Our standards, pah! Our standards were six weeks. Theirs, or its, is a little over a day. Perhaps I need to throw out the book. Perhaps I need to--_ “Begin count on my mark… mark.”

Sovek and T’Met were in the belly of the beast, so to speak, and he had nine other officers on the station as well as the rest of the crew outside of the bridge all unaware of what was going on right now. As it needed to be, he told himself, but Mindar still felt as though his gut was drawing in on itself as the silent counter neared its end. To distract himself, he glanced around, taking in the pulse of the bridge. Tal’Aura stood at tactical, a junior officer had taken over Sovek’s duties at the Armoury. Everyone was at his or her station and was standing by or carefully monitoring the console in front of them, but from their posture, he could tell that each and every officer was mentally counting the seconds. Around the bridge his eyes continued to rove, watching each officer in the middle of his or her duties and recalling what he had already observed as the normal body language thus far of each. Some were prone to mild fidgeting, while some were as externally placid as a Vulcan, reminding him a lot of Sovek in particular. With some, their gaze never wavered from the task at hand, but some looked toward him out of the corners of their eyes. Perhaps for reassurance, perhaps secretly questioning his wisdom. Anticipation was a fine tuned motion.

But he would not ask --that was what his senior advisors were for, Elements rest their pestering souls. As the counter reached :10 seconds, his gaze came full circle back to Tal’Aura, who was looking down at her screen. Hers was perhaps the finest tuned of them all.  _Perhaps I need to take its pulse._

  
_Three..._  
_Two…_  
_One…_  


There was to be no dramatic sound of a detonation punctuating the silence, but that was a good sign. It meant the silencers had absorbed much of the sound and rear lateral shock that would have seriously injured or struck down his two senior officers. Now one of two immediate things was about to happen, but before the names of these outcomes had even had the chance to grace his mind, Larek’s head snapped up. “They’re being dematerialised!”

_What?!_ Mindar snapped his eyes to his communications officer. “On speaker!” There came the sound of shouting in the background. “What is going on?!”

Hot on the heels of his barked order, Tal’Aura’s voice cut clear and shrill across the bridge. “Sir, our crew is being transported into space!”

“How many?”

The live feed was cut. His pupils contracting to slits, they zeroed in on the lump in Tal’Aura’s throat as it moved, then flicked to her eyes as she spoke. “All seventeen of them.” She bit out. “T’Met and Sovek are unaccounted for.”  


_“FVDAT!”_ He did not waste a moment. A shipwide klaxon blared in the background over the hum of bridge chatter. “Arm the atomic missiles!”

“They’re going offline. Three of the station’s arms have just clamped on to the hull.” Tal’Aura informed as her fingers danced rapidly over the keys in front of her console.

“Shields.”

“No effect.”

“The station’s tapped into the ship’s umbilical ports,” Larek informed. “It’s overriding our command functions.”

“Lock out the main computer!”

“I can’t. Our access codes have been scrambled.”

Silence reigned inside Mindar’s mind for a moment save for the grinding of his molars, for there  was one remaining option... “Centurion Kaleb.”

His deputy Armoury officer answered from over the comm. “Sir?”

“Tell your men to start loading the nuclear warheads manually.”

“Yes, sir.”

Another memory took Mindar back to one afternoon as a young pupil at the College sitting in class as his instructor was telling his students a story from a time when he served under Admiral Valdore, then Commander Valdore. But what was a tale spun with the glories of victory and salvation of a crew from immediate annihilation due to the brave sacrifice of a few engineers fell in no such painted way on  _his_ shoulders at the moment.  _This_ was not the Haakonan army he was facing. The enemy he was battling was his own orders to send eight people into danger, for which he had had seventeen --eighteen, perhaps-- total fatality count to answer for before his entire ship had become commandeered by alien technology. Mindar felt as though he was looking at a broken mirror, a truth that never really existed from that day in class. Everyone knew what he was asking his Armoury to do, and everyone was trained to accept the sacrifices Mindar ordered, but he felt sick, sick,  _sick_ inside.

.    .    .

  
_Under a blood red sky_  
_A crowd has gathered in black and white_  
_Arms entwined, the chosen few_  
_The newspaper says, says_  
_Say it's true it's true…_  


\--U2 “New Year’s Day”,  _War._  


.    .    .

  
Minutes earlier, T’Met and Sovek had been crouching just outside of the final segment with T’Met was attaching the last of the micro-ordinances, each of the capsules lit up with red lights blinking coherently until he set the final detonator. It was at that point when a thin red directed energy beam linked all three, forming the image of an isosceles triangle against the white and dark grey lined backdrop of the grill. Nodding to Sovek, he signaled down the ventilation shaft to the first of his team. _‘_ _Viahra’._

Pressing the right side of the final capsule initiated a repetition of short beeps, and waited. Of course, these things were tested, but… you never knew. Failures happened. Sparing a brief glance to Sovek, he saw that his compatriot was as calm as the Apnex Sea at dawn on a windless day as the series of beeps grew in pitch and frequency. T'Met closed his eyes shut just before a triangular section of the grill was blasted forward into the room beyond. A hand waved aside the cloud of acrid smoke, some of which still sped into his lungs. Sovek stepped out first with a crunch of char underfoot, and reached into his pocket just as an all too familiar voice greeted them.

_“Incursion detected in primary data core. Vacate this section or your vessel will be compromised."_ A warning siren began to blare repeatedly.

_“Hnaev!_ _”_ T’Met swore.

“We expected this.” While standing over the scattered remnants of a charred grill plate, a fine dusting of ash coated Sovek’s outstretched hand as he waited for T’Met to grasp it and hoist himself out of the shaft.

But tactical officer’s black side-bangs whipped to one side as he jerked his head to the other, back over his shoulder. “The team--”

They heard the shouts echoing down the shaft and watched as two of their closest aides frantically crawling toward them suddenly dematerialised in a shimmer of white. Catching T’Met’s jaw loosening, Sovek yanked him onto his feet on the cool, hard, semi-reflective surfaces of the white panels surrounded by chrome walls. “Find Vrell!” Hitherto calm, Sovek’s dark brown eyes now blazed as he jerked his head in the direction of an adjacent room as his hands pulled out an onyx, circular device, its sleek surface catching the gleam of the bright, overhead lights.

_“Incursion detected in primary data core. Vacate this section or your vessel will be compromised.”_

“At least we can be certain that we  _have_ found the core.” He muttered to himself. In the center of the small operations room was an octagonal table with a raised platform in the middle. For what purpose, he did not know. It had looked to be a display screen, at first glance, but was entirely blackened out. Sovek had no time to speculate as he set the device down on its surface with a clack. At 96 millimeters, it was only a couple of centimeters in diameter larger than a hockey puck.

“There are tons of bodies here!” T’Met’s shock filtered through Sovek’s concentration as he tapped the center.

“We only need the one.” The stolid officer replied as eight titanium arms shot out, a series of segments with built in servos allowing for omnidirectional twists and turns mimicking the legs of a spider.

_“Incursion detected in primary data core. Vacate this section or your vessel will be compromised.”_

“Have you found Vrell?” Sovek shouted back.

“I’m detecting one Romulan life-sign.” T’Met replied.

As the voice of the computer continued to repeat the warning, the Spider activated. Lifting the black torso, it then began to crawl across the surface as Sovek monitored feedback via a scanner. Electronic chittering accompanied a series of highly advanced sensor technology searching for a power signature. As green conical light emanating from seven ocular pieces scanned the surface, a circle formed on the surface under mechanical foot revealing an x-ray-like vision of the components inside the table. All the while, T’Met relayed back his findings over the backdrop of the periodic warning.

“I recognise Andorian. Tellarite. Nausicaan. Rigelian-- their vital organs appear to be functioning. They've suffered severe neurological damage.”

_“Incursion detected in primary data core. Vacate this section or your vessel will be compromised.”_

“Their synaptic pathways have been reconfigured, integrated into the computer core.”

The Spider found its desired target, stopping still. Sovek could see the circular command hub that the center of the black disk was hovering directly over. Lowering its abdomen out shot another appendage piercing the surface of the table and tapping into the hub.

“I’ve found him!”

“Quickly,” Sovek replied urgently as he held the communications device on his wrist up to his lips. _“_ _Tagor._ Come in  _Tagor_ _..._ Larek ...Larek, do you read me?”  


.    .    .

  


“Commander!” The din quieted as seven pairs of eyes landed on Larek. “Sovek has made contact!”

“Kaleb, stand by.” Mindar alerted the acting Armoury Officer in charge, then nodded to his communications officer as a go-ahead to transfer Sovek to speaker.

_“Tagor_ _,_ respond!” The bridge heard Sovek say, and although it was patchy, their Chief of Security’s voice was still loud and clear enough to understand.

“Sub-commander, report!” Mindar ordered.

“T’Met and I--” a brief spurt of static blotted out part of his sentence “--Vrell integrated into the memory core. Attempted to remove him.”

“We need you to evacuate immediately. If you cannot get Vrell, get yourselves back to the airlock.”

“Commander!” This time it was Tal’Aura who spoke up as the bridge lights began to flicker. “Main power is failing.”

_Fvdat._ Three of his best officers were on board a homicidal station, seventeen others dead, a ship commandeered by the alien technology… he could still have Kaleb load the torpedoes and seal off the Armoury, but no.  _No,_ there was another way! His instincts thrummed at the thought even though it sounded half-cocked. Nevermind sounded, it _was_ half-cocked. Maybe if this had been an Earth vessel, he would have fired on the enemy, knowingly killing himself and his crew as well if it meant taking the enemy with them, but somewhere in Mindar’s mind, there was a hope that he could still yoke the foreign technology to his control and, thereby, the Empire’s. After all, it was only a series of subroutines, and subroutines could be rewritten!

“Alien station.” Mindar raised his voice, though he realised it was not necessary as the station had tapped into their intercom system. “I wish to make my payment as agreed upon, but I request to open a new transaction.”

Ambient chatter and concentration both nearly ground to a halt. A standard alert continued to flicker in relative silence for one long moment in which the hopes of the crew dared to rise.

_“An incursion has been detected in the primary data core. All personnel must be vacated or this vessel will be compromised.”_

Tightness in his chest, a surging feeling of letting down his crew in a show of idiotic desperation seized him. But Mindar was suddenly saved from what he half-believed were about to be the complications of a shameful and pandering expression of command when he heard the sound of Vrell’s name. Eyes snapped to the speaker.

.    .    .

“Nnngh.” The whites of Vrell’s eyes flickered beneath rapidly fluttering eyelashes. Taking a hint from overhearing a little of the conversation going on in the other room, T’Met quickened his pace at unhooking the wires joining with Vrell’s body.

“Vrell.” He called softly as his nimble fingers worked to unclip wires and leave them swinging, half hanging off the shelf. “It’s T’Met. Can you hear me?”

“T'…Met…”

“Can you walk?”

_“An incursion has been detected in the primary data core. All personnel must be vacated or this vessel will be compromised.”_

There was one wire left running to an electrode attached to Vrell’s cortex. T’Met was about to unhook it when Vrell’s left hand shot up and clasped T’Met’s with surprising strength. “Don’t… wait…” He rasped sharply, then cleared his throat, blinking his eyes wide. “I need to speak with Aura. Do you have your communicator?”

“Yes,” T'Met answered uncertainly.

“Give it to me.”

_“An incursion has been detected in the primary data core. All personnel must be vacated or this vessel will be compromised.”_

Panic welled up in T’Met’s chest, but he did his best to suppress an urge to remind his superior that they  _really had to leave_ . Tapping a button on his wrist, Centurion T’Met held the dark green strap up to Sub-commander Vrell’s lips. “You have to  _hurry_ _.”_ T’Met could not help that much.

But Vrell looked as though the words had never reached him as he spoke his sister’s name. “Aura.”

.    .    .

On the bridge, Tal’Aura’s gaze flicked to her station and widened. “Vrell?!” Her whisper was enough to draw Mindar’s attention, but she barely noticed.

“Protocol subroutines.” His static-laden voice wafted in and out of her range of her hearing.

“What?” Her brow furrowed, but it was not because she had misheard. From a quick assessment, Tal’Aura assumed that Vrell did not have access to the primary systems of the alien station’s core programs but had chosen a subcommand, something he  was able to sabotage.  Protocol subroutines?  She could only imagine what he intended to do.

“Tell Sovek.”

“I heard hi...” Sovek answered, his voice increasingly overlayed with static. “I think… can access… introduce… new file. A conflict res…n package. Continue… ssing the computer.”

_“An incursion has been detected in the primary data core. All personnel must be vacated or this vessel will be compromised.”_

Taking its pulse. Mindar thought, and smiled at his engineer’s parallel thinking. “Good work.”  Let’s  hope  this works.  He was beginning to have a good feeling about it, however.

Tal’Aura felt a brush against her shoulder as Mindar stepped beside her to occupy the adjacent station. “I am rewriting our code to attempt to match the computer’s,” she announced to Sovek.

“No, no. This won’t work. The Spider will be scanned.” He managed to sound dismayed to her. She would have been surprised at the display if her focus was not otherwise entirely engaged at the moment.   
Mindar began to speak, but Tal’Aura caught the movement of his jaw out of the corner of her eyes and discreetly cut in. “What if you disabled the primary sensors so that the Computer isn’t able to scan it? It’ll blind the system for a few seconds while it makes the changeover to the backup scanners.”

“A few seconds are all I’ll need.”

_“An incursion has been detected in the primary data core. All personnel must be vacated or this vessel will be compromised.”_

“Sovek,” Mindar interjected. “I’ve been able to use the telemetry from the Spider’s scanners to locate a sub-junction next to the environmental controls five stations over.”

“Next to it should also be a power distribution node for the station’s docking berths.” The bridge heard Vrell say, his voice increasingly laced with static.

“I see it.” Sovek replied.

“Send the spider there.”

“That will terminate our comm link.”

Mindar cut in. “You’re both breaking up.  _Do it._ ”

“Yes, sir.”

“Auxiliary power failure in less than forty seconds.” Tal’Aura announced to the commander. “Communication has been severed.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rihannsu:
> 
> Okhala = Fire, proper name for one of the sacred Elements.  
> Aeirelh ihirlarr’khinu’le aethl kaeyrhevha u’temfirhaivha. = Laughter is the difference between theory and practice.  
> viahra = sting  
> Fvdat! = Fuck!  
> Hnaev! = Shit!


	4. Mindar's Deliverance and the Senate Floor

  
Forty seconds until his crew began suffocating and freezing to death. Forty seconds until he might see his wife again. Forty seconds in a blink of an eye to some, but for him they stretched on. He waited, nearly biting the bit for Tal’Aura to look up from her console. It had to have been only mere seconds before his mind started churning out images from his past. There seemingly were an infinite number of points in Gell Mindar’s life that he could look back on and think ‘if I could have done this differently, would I like the person I became better than the one now?’ But there was only one at this hour which preoccupied him, and it was not a question. Every memory of her seemed to occupy the same space at the same time. ‘If I could have evacuated the fifth deck of the  _Meikh_  sooner, I  _would have_ _.’_  Vessaria would not have been spaced, nor would seven other crew men at the hands of Captain Boylan, Commanding Officer of the starship _Challenger._ He remembered the last time he had heard her voice. She had buzzed in over the comm. saying she was going to try to help everyone evacuate. Not moments after the comm. went dead, that section of the hull buckled. There was never really a way to estimate these things down to the second. Pins gave way sooner than one expected. There was one, he still kept in the first drawer of his desk, the one that had caught, buying a few seconds, then suddenly had given way, causing an instantaneous cascade. ‘If I had allowed Vrell, Sovek, and T’Met to die, would I like the person I became better than the one now?’ Either way, he would be executed whether it would be dying with his crew for attempting to commandeer an artificial construct’s mind or summarily executed by the Senate for failing spectacularly at his charge. Was it all for them, for Romulus and his crew, or was it for himself?

A movement caught the periphery of his right eye. Tal’Aura’s chin raised, as her eyes did suddenly his mind was effortlessly switching gears from the maelstrom of self doubt to the rapids of current events. Perhaps it was the mindset that despite the odds, there were at least odds, and in that vein he found a pervading calm settle on him. At the moment, he had no time to consider why, only that it was a curious thing that was nonetheless not unwelcome and could not have come at a more needed time.

She gave him the nod. Only about ten seconds to spare.

“Let’s test it out.” Mindar replied with a pervading calm that he could not explain how he felt at the moment. “Computer, I will vacate my officers from the primary data core, but first I wish to open a new transaction.”

Lights across the bridge stabilised.  _“State the nature of your transaction.”_

“Main power is online. Communications jamming has been lifted.” He could hear the relief in Uhlan Larek's voice and saw a few smiles cracking around the bridge.

“The exam isn’t over yet.” Mindar reminded, while subjecting his crew to one of his folksy academic type jokes, he was referring without any doubt to the umbilical effect still seeded throughout their vessel. “First, can you specify this facility’s projected expenditures for the next... fiscal period?”

_“Specify: Andorian year, Earth year, Rigelian biannual, Romulan year, Tellarite year, Vulcan year--”_

Good, Mindar thought, that bought them a little time to touch base with Sovek. As the computer listed on and on, different time periods, the Security Chief’s voice interjected over the comm. “Commander?” That his voice was clear of static was another promising sign that the plan had worked, but the tension did not yet bleed from Mindar’s shoulders.

“Sovek. Report.”

“The Spider was deactivated and removed 0.5 seconds before the computer scanned the core. I feel confident in saying that the code has taken.”

“Very good.”

“Sir, what you’ll need to do next is--” Tal’Aura leaned closer and whispered the last few words into Mindar’s ear. He nodded when she pulled away.

_“--Rigelian trimester, Romulan quarter, Tellarite semi-annual, Vulcan quarter--”_

“Romulan year.” He turned to the crew with a smile. “Let’s go for the maximum, shall we?”

_“An estimated value has been calculated at fourteen personnel, twelve hundred thousand metric tons of duranium plate--”_

“Send the rest of the list as well as all damages to my ready room.”  _How in the Elements’ names did I forget to say that?_ He thought to himself without a hint of betrayal on his face. He was sometimes reminded that humans would call it ‘human error’. Romulans had a similar saying, but it was a pejorative term at  _best_ _._  According to the Romulan work ethic that Mindar had grown up with, it was believed that it made someone appear even weaker and more foolish to cite weakness as an excuse or admit to it openly rather than to simply silently note it and move on. In jest, especially, self-advertisement of that kind was highly unattractive.

_“Download complete. State the nature of your transaction.”_

“Ah, computer, I would like to open a transaction on behalf of the Romulan Star Empire. To allow for permanent, unrestricted access the primary data core of this facility--”

“Sir,” Tal’Aura mouthed the words ‘indefinite clause’.

“- _-_ _for which_  I first require a period of five weeks to consult with my superiors.”

“Transaction on hold. Payment for previous transaction is due in thirty minutes. Remember to place compensation items on the transport platform.”

Mindar turned to the bridge, indicating to Tal'Aura to open a communications channel to all decks. "Well done today, all of you. I cannot simply step aside right now and carry on without saying this. You have done your people an extraordinary service, one that you may not yet realise its fundamental and far-reaching gains. I cannot pretend it was easy, losing seventeen comrades. Seventeen Friends. Because of you, their sacrifices will raise the precept of unlimited expansion. Theirs and yours will never be for naught for today marks a new era of strength for generations to come and they will remember that  _we_  were the ones who delivered it."

He had not meant to get carried away, but when the room stood before him and Mindar heard the echoes of clapping from over the open comm., he smiled softly to them all. "Sub-commander." He addressed Tal'Aura. "Open a channel to the  _Tovarek._  I'm going to take it in my ready room."

.    .    .

`Captain’s Warlog 11875`

`By including an indefinite clause line, it essentially means that if I use the language ‘consult with’, the VI will remain locked in a stasis of non-recognition of previous commands. My staff and I have kept periodic consultations between our staff and the  _Tovarek_ , and we have come to the conclusion due to the sustained umbilical effect that it would be best if we keep the ship in dock barring any breach of contract that departure may include. Also, Sovek advises, in congruence with the  _Tovarek’s_  Tal’Shiar counsel, that any attempts at sabotage may trigger an overlooked subroutine which could cause hostilities to resume. I am still uncertain whether the alien station’s computer has a definitive time limit for all transactions. Sovek and Tal’Aura are investigating that potential while Vrell recovers in Sickbay. He wishes to volunteer for the research efforts, but Doctor tr’Hheinia has advised against it until the mild neurological damage he sustained from the integration process has healed. The good news is that he should be returned to duty in a few days’ time.`

As he turned to pour himself a glass of Ale, the commander’s eyes lifted to the seal above his station and paused. On the slate grey wall behind his desk had always hung a circular gold plaque and on that plaque the painted figurehead of a Romulan male. Pronounced chin, square jaw, aquiline nose, and strong cheekbones all set him apart as a man with distinguished features and underneath in printed Rihannsu were his title and name ‘Praetor Gileus’. The 111th Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire. In a few short weeks his lone form would be standing above the galactic mural being questioned and cross-examined by members of the Imperial Senate on yesterday’s events, then finally his direct superiors, the Admiralty, would present their opinions on the viability of using the alien station. Mindar felt he had done well for himself but now he was being catapulted into his culture’s limelight and, with him, his crew. All of their reputations rested on whether the Admiralty would support this venture, the Tal’Shiar approve, and finally, but not least of all, the Senate and Praetor himself. Mindar had been a wise enough man not to trust for a moment that despite how attractive a project looked on paper, even despite how well it tested in the field, it did not always mean the enterprise would be supported by the politicians.

It was hard to believe, but it happened all too often, to say nothing of the temporary virtual truce being held together by computational apron strings. Mindar worried in secret. Perhaps Sovek knew, as well, he considered. However, for an agent, although Sovek had his mysterious moments, he was the one who had said during the first joint meeting between the warbirds’ senior officers and the admiralty over subspace that, “with the right committed personnel, we could do a top-bottom rewrite of the station’s code within two months at the outset”. Presumably, that was factoring in the scenario where it may become necessary to strip the code down to an essential skeleton and build back the command structure from there in order to secure the station to serve its new masters.

Still it dogged Mindar: who were the original builders? This question had not come up once in any of the meetings held thus far, but that did not come as a surprise to the seasoned commander. No one cared enough, at least for now. Those secrets may yet be unravelled when the scientists pried inside its virtual mind. With a tenuous smile, he considered that he would discretely ask for a copy of their research. However, that was  _if_ it would be available to him at all barring some reason for official censure. Discoverer of this bounty mattered not if his was not endowed with the right rank and billet. If all went well, he would be elevated to the rank of Admiral. Promotion had already been circulating within the upcoming three years, it seemed likely that this would secure that consideration. Mindar kept wondering at that. ‘Seemed’. Of course, it would happen. With a shake of his head, he reminded himself about something Aura once told him. He was doing it again, underselling, being almost too wary of the politicians to function. Despite appearances, Mindar always had a healthy fear of that shark tank called a ‘Senate’.

Tipping back his glass, the entirety of its glacial contents slid into his throat. “Ah!” A short burst of satisfaction was followed by a rising warmth in his chest and a mild tingling sensation that he felt all the way into the tips of his fingers. Well, he thought, it’s about time for me to make a few changes.

With that his fingers wandered to the touch screen on the side of his first drawer. His fingers brushed the scanners, and the drawer popped out. There, in plain view, lay a black box. He took it out, opened it, looking once over its contents before he tapped a blue button on his console. Within moments, the doors to his ready room opened and young, fresh-faced Ba’el stepped through and abruptly stopped at the other side of Mindar’s desk without a word. For a moment, he was struck by the resemblance of the Uhlan’s composure to a version of himself many years ago during the first months of his active military career serving with the privilege of being the junior officer assigned to the commander as his personal assistant. A smile would have touched Mindar’s lips if it were not for his discipline as he recognised that nervous glimmer. Before he had gotten used to the ways and means of the job, he had always counted how many steps he should take when he walked into the room, where he should stop, where his eyes should look --not directly, never directly, into the commander’s but not so noticeably into the distance either. The trick, young Mindar had learned, was to stare at the base of the cranial ridge and if the commander engaged him or just after the commander gave him an order, only then would he look briefly into the commander’s eyes as he acquiesced.

The black box closed with a dry snap, and Mindar presented it to the youth, barely of age. Steady hands, he noted, however, took the box, and again Mindar almost smiled.  _Very good._ Dark brown eyes met light blue ones that were looking over the top of his head.  _Well, that could use a little work._ Mindar smirked faintly to himself. It faded within the blink of an eye. “Take this to Chief Vrell. Tell him…” Involuntarily, he eyes had wandered down to the picture frame on his desk. “Tell him to put this to good use.”

“Sir.” Ba’el’s eyes glanced once to Mindar as he accepted the order, then the contact was broken as he crisply turned to discharge his duty. Without fail, a smile appeared on Mindar’s lips before the grey uniform crossed over the threshold of his office. Mindar reached forward, the frame scraping the light blue-tinted glass of his desk lightly as he picked it up and handled it, drawing a finger down one side. The foliage of the T’aresh mountains had indeed been beautiful that year and that was only in the background.

.    .    .

_A hot wind whipped the banners lining the Presidium Park before Gell Mindar felt the feather-light strokes of his bangs’ and the slight tang of metal on the tip of his tongue. As he passed by the final pole, half-lit with an amber glow to his western-facing cheek while his toothpick shadow was cast long over the white, stone walkway continuing before him, he spared a long glance toward the bright marigold disc of the Romulan sun peeking through the Senate colonnade until he experienced the sudden drop in air velocity and heat that came with stepping into a much longer shadow of a building. Glancing upward, a midnight-black monolith thrust skyward before him in a backdrop of pillowy, golden cloud bellies._

_Entering the building, Mindar passed through the security and rode the turbolift up to the fifty second floor, exited and walked fifty paces down a long, dimly lit hallway, then turned right into the long shafts of golden light coming in from a large, circular window at the end of that branch. Twenty paces later brought him to a set of double doors guarded by two Romulan officers. Stately and quietly they stared ahead until Mindar was before them. Just before they had nodded and stepped aside to open the doors for him, Mindar noted two hulking figures standing in the shadows of the window. The light, nearly full in his eyes prevented him from seeing their faces but by virtue of their gold-rimmed bald heads and pointed ears, or possibly by virtue alone of their stature, he immediately recognised the bodyguards of a Senator. It was hard to tell if their uniforms had purple or azure embellishments, signifying a handful of potential Houses they could service. However, the one name which was the first on the tip of his tongue was the first face his eyes fell upon as the doors opened and the sound of a male’s polished, lilting accent no longer came as an unintelligible murmur._

_“--if we cannot convince the Senate to pass the proposal.”_

_“Admiral Mindar.” Senator Vrax announced, prompting the speaker, Vice Chairman Tavanek of the Tal’Shiar, to look up as well. Six pairs of eyes followed Mindar until he placed himself at the end of the table opposite Chairman Kora t’Vernak of the Tal’Shiar._

_“Sirs, madam.” His eyes swept the faces present from General M’rek, Admiral Valdore, Senator Vrax, and the heads of the Tal’Shiar, Tavanek and his boss, Chairman Kora t’Vernak. Last of all, his gaze lingered on Sovek. “Colonel.” Mindar nodded respectfully to his equal in the Tal’Shiar though with a little less formality in his gaze. Sovek, it would have appeared to everyone else at the table, simply nodded back with the same cool reserve he normally showed to everyone, Uhlan or General, but Mindar knew better._

_It was, for a Romulan, naturally assumed that one did not enter a room unless he was fully briefed. There would never come a polite inquiry asking if the subject had been so. Facts were addressed and if the subject had not been briefed he would likely experience some very unpleasant forthcoming weeks adjusting to a considerable demotion. Thus, the Vice-Chairman launched right into the discussion. “As you’re well aware, tomorrow the proposal will be announced to the Senate and I don’t need to remind you what is at stake for you if the proposal fails. Moreover, I am sure I speak for all of us gathered here when I say that you are the most keen on seeing it pass.”_

_“Yes, I am.” Mindar replied sedately, scooting himself forward and folding his hands before him on the table as nearly everyone else had done._

_Were Mindar human, he may have surmised aloud that the only purpose of calling him forth was to broker a deal over the testimonial he was to give tomorrow, the matter of concern being the_ nature _of the payment expected to be delivered to the alien station within the week. Yet on Romulus, it was also a strong habit to never volunteer information or hazard a guess except in the most casual conversations. He remained silent._

_“When you give your testimonial tomorrow, we would prefer it if you did not mention the specific conditions within the computer core. We have already contacted Sub-commanders tr’Hheinia and Vrell and, of course,” Senator Vrax motioned diagonally across the table toward Mindar’s right, “our own Colonel Sovek.”_

_A pause. “Alright.” Another pause ensued. Nearly anything in the name of expansionism and military strength of the Empire was warranted. His people, at large, may have felt the larger moral question of servitude was important to regard, but many in power had long since learned to ignore all but a handful of principles which secured their own power and brought power to the Empire. They were nearly always one in the in the same. He knew this well, and yet he felt prickled at the moment. Suddenly Mindar began to speak again with a clearing of his throat. “Prisoners of war, convicts, and other undesirables... They do not have rights within our government, never will, and are often used for the most dangerous and menial of tasks. I fail to see why notifying the Senate of conditions far-surpassing the vistas of the Reman dilithium mines would hurt our position.”_

_The reactions of the room were instantaneous, though subtle. Most notably, Sovek shifted his eyes and Vrax ever so slightly narrowed his as he tightened the weave of his fingers in irritation. “Slavery is not new to the Empire, Admiral.” His tone was laced with a subtle warning. “But our people have had a peculiarity about certain_ kinds _of enslavement. Particularly the kind wherein bodies were strapped up to machines to be used as a data cache until they_ rot.”

_“Some of us who have lighter stomachs when it comes to upholding the precept of unlimited expansion,” the Vice Chairman rephrased, turning to Valdore and glancing upward to meet the Admiral’s eyes as he flourished a small smirk. “might cause… trouble.” Valdore appeared unfazed at the jab, though with a slight lowering of his eyelashes that did not escape Mindar’s notice._

I gleaned that much, you fool. _Mindar attempted to curb his desire for rebuttal, but failed. “We can stomach visiting a genocidal bioweapon on an entire species but Elements’ forbid we use a few aliens to run a state of the art biocomputer.”_

_Vrax looked as though he was about to unleash a verbal flogging when Valdore spoke before he had the chance. “The Haakonans have given us no other alternative with the weapons provided to them by the Vulcans and humans. The Illyrian trader who is delivering the virus claims to be no friend of the humans. Most of the expanse laud the humans for destroying the Spheres, but some claim they had very poor dealings with Captain Archer.”_

_“What is the name of this pathogen?” Mindar asked._

_“The Loque’eque mutagenic virus. It rewrites the parent DNA, turning the host into a member of an extinct species native to a planet within the former Expanse. This will not a problem?”_

_“No.” He replied formally. He did not have a non-suicidal choice in the matter, did he? Mindar thought scathingly. He relented, however, as he met Valdore’s gaze. The man had done the unthinkable and yet survived by sheer talent. He had led two major ventures and failed and yet here he still remained. There was an arrogance and yet a wisdom all the same to the aura of this man, such that Mindar felt he was back in War College._

_“Back to the matter at hand.” Mindar’s eyes slid to Sovek’s as Chairman t’Vernak spoke, and a look of understanding quietly passed between them. “After four weeks of ongoing research, the Tal’Shiar’s scientists have considered other ways and means but all have determined that it could take months or years to come close to paralleling the rate of operations.”_

_“What about Sub-commander Vrell?” Valdore asked, directing his gaze to Mindar and Sovek. “Wouldn’t he be able to advise us?”_

_Mindar shook his head. “Vrell did not have access to that data. Each mind is like a delegated cell, cut off from understanding what the other cells are doing. His mind served as an adjunct to the humanoid-computer protocol subroutines.”_

_Valdore nodded as M’rek, sitting to his left, surmised. “Which was why you were able to introduce a new subroutine.”_

_“Precisely,” Sovek replied. “And we do not fully understand how the humanoid mind is able to be integrated yet, but my team believes they are coming close to fully understanding the mechanisms.”_

_“How close?”_

_“I have given them three weeks.”_

_“Very good.” Vrax pronounced, then a mild scowl reappeared on his face as he turned to Mindar. “You understand what you are going to say.”_

“Do you understand what I just said?”

Mindar came out of the fog of his reverie, blinking once and answering firmly. “I do.” Whatever it was probably was not important or a repeat of _everything_ Mindar read and he had made it a point to spend many late nights in his study reading  everything  that he had the clearance for.

“That concludes the benefits of the molecular replicator.” Tavanek remarked. At that point the speaker’s gaze swept the Senate floor then drew his attention back to the docket. “The next item of interest on the docket is the transporter technology. Colonel Sovek, please come forward.”

A small creak was heard as Sovek lifted himself off the the bench and crossed in front of Mindar to exit the row. All eyes watched as he made is way to stand in the center of the floor, and Tavanek began the enquiry. “I believe you are familiar first hand with this capability.” There was no hint of foul superiority in his voice as he said it; merely a fact of the events no doubt discussed before he had been invited to enter the room.

“Yes, I am.” Sovek replied as he came to a stop with the toes of his boots engulfing Andoria and Vulcan. His folded hands came to rest over the small of his back.

Tavanek continued. “According to a half-damaged file your team was able to wrest from the computer archives, there is evidence that this station was visit and used once before, five years ago, by the Earth ship  _Enterprise_ _.”_ Several Senators shifted forward in their benches or whispered a few words to their neighbours.

“Yes. The time of their encounter is dated at six days after their trespass in the Gileus system minefield.” Sovek confirmed.

“That puts the recent history of this station as within...  _two_ light years from Romulan space, would you say?”

“That is correct, Vice Chairman. We calculated the station’s approximate coordinates from a four day journey at warp two to reach the station. Our joint investigation with the  _Tovarek_ also revealed that, while attempting to access the primary data core, two human biosigns were transported from one of the other ventilation shafts to the bridge of their ship as a disciplinary measure.” Sovek’s answer earned several chuckles and smirks from the bureaucrats.

“I find it curious.” Praetor Gileus began. “That the computer would take Sub-commander Vrell by circumspect only to scan his vitals, then attempt to dispose of him. And why was there no mention of a human found among the bodies you encountered in the data core.”

“Due respect, you meant Centurion T’Met and Chief Engineer Vrell encountered.” Sovek corrected. While it was a fair point and not a show of insubordination, the Vice Chairman of the Tal’Shiar raised his eyebrows. Mindar thought back to the meeting and how the question had taken an entirely different spin at the small council meeting. Of course, the operative was only putting on a good show, having given Sovek the order to obfuscate as much as possible. Technically, it was not a lie, either, as the records would show, since Sovek had not stepped foot inside the bunker due to his role in deploying the Spider. Meanwhile, Sovek had already continued speaking as though he had not noticed. “We believe we now have an answer to that. Most recently, my team has recovered damaged files which suggest there had been a widespread data purge at the time of  _Enterprise_ _’s_ arrival. We are not certain yet what caused it.”

“But you have theories.” Tavanek interjected, affixing a keen, penetrating gaze. The light in his black eyes glimmered.

“Yes.” Sovek conceded readily. “Sub-commander Tal’Aura discovered a time index of a widespread power failure coinciding with a previously scheduled payment deadline. The payment was supposed to have been two hundred liters of warp plasma. It is a possibility that the plasma somehow ignited.”

Silence descended on the twelve for a moment. All present were educated enough to know that that much warp plasma, when ignited, would be capable of destroying the entire station. Then it was Vrax who spoke. “I cannot see how that constitutes a theory. If the station had exploded into fragments, how was it rebuilt?”

Mindar motioned to speak. “Again with due respect, Senator, it is parochial to assume anything, for or against, as we are not entirely certain at this time.”

Catching a look from Sovek, Mindar ended there as the former added, “I believe the Admiral wishes to remind everyone here that this station has demonstrated remarkable faculty with repairing other ships. It could be theorised that it is also self-repairing.” Sovek was not sure whether to call Mindar’s pique bold or foolhardy but now it was beginning to both worry and piss him off. With this project,  _many_ careers hung in the balance, and so Sovek sought to smoothen Mindar’s words by reminding ‘everyone’ and not  _solely_ Vrax.

However well intentioned, it did little to siphon the senator’s ire. “I  ask because your man’s presentation is circuitous.” Vrax snapped.

The Vice Chairman intoned a light warning. _“_ _Gentlemen._ Let us continue with the issue at hand. Colonel Sovek, you may return to your seat.” Sovek gave a small bow from his shoulders, then turned to be seated. “It is clear to the Tal’Shiar that this station presents a great potential asset in providing repair assistance; however, let us now ask if the transporter technology could be adapted. Admiral Mindar?”

“In time, yes.” Mindar answered. All _technology can, in time_ _,_ he had felt like mouthing but had stayed his lips.

“Good.” Praetor Gileus thundered. “ A few months ago, the Tal'Shiar resorted to attempting to steal a prototype device but were stopped by the scientists Skon of Vulcan and a man called Tobin Dax of a planet I had never even heard of before.” He turned partway to face the Vice Chairman on his left. “I expect not to see the same level of spectacular failure again.”

“No, My Lord Praetor.” Tavenek replied humbly and cleared his throat lightly. At that point, an aide appeared, placing a glass of ale before the Senator. After a sip, he continued. “I make the final case, then, before the Senate and My Lord Praetor. I now call upon this Committee to vote for the approval of the  _Vauthilai_ Commission.”

“Before that, I have one last remark for consideration.” Mindar spoke as he stood up.

“The Vice Chairman has already issued closing remarks, Admiral.” Vrax reminded him as though chiding his eldest son.

“I will allow it.” The Praetor’s voice cut in to his surprise.

“My Lord Praetor.” Mindar bowed his head in both thanks and deference. “That the labour force the Tal’Shiar has requested to operate the facility be human.”

“Does that not invite a security risk?” Vrax asked dryly. “Or are you feeling particularly vengeful today, Mindar?”

“It will not invite a risk.” A smirk twitched at the corner of Mindar’s mouth. It was interesting Vrax should say 'vengeful'. Mindar was not feeling that way particularly today, but now that he had brought it up, it so happened there was one human and her crew who bore ties to Captain Boylan sitting in one of their detention facilities at this very moment. “And some of the Remans  you  suggested have an even longer body count than Captain Boylan herself.”

Gileus rose his hand, cutting off Mindar. “I agree with the Admiral, Vrax. Admiral Mindar, should this Commission pass, I nominate you to oversee the selection.”

“Which prisoners do you have in mind?” t’Vernak inflected curiosity.

Mindar smiled. “The  _Passiac.”_  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rihannsu:
> 
> Vauthilai = 'triumphant' (the name the Romulans have given to the station)


End file.
